Age realization

Every once and awhile you take a moment while you’re rummaging through old stuff and you find a stash of things that makes you nostalgic. It could be an old picture, an old card, a certificate you earned, or an essay.

This is a memory, and boy does it make me feel old. So I was just on Facebook and I saw a post about a floor buffer. Now, normally it’s not something that’s noteworthy but it reminded me of a time in 2002-2003.

Back then I was in Grade 11 year and part of the things that student council organized was a student led “Big Brothers & Sisters” which would welcome new Grade 9s to the school and be sort of a guiding light to help and to welcome to the school.

When I started in high school I had something similar, and I thought back to it and all I remember was a pimply teenager that was trying too hard to be cool and how much I wished like I was in a different group with less strange people. I totally wasn’t that guy.

I was a chill upperclassman. I was nice to everyone, I was friendly, I did good things, and I helped people out. I can remember the day the Grade 9s came to visit before school and I distinctly remember them looking younger than I remembered. Until I looked back at what I looked like in Grade 9 or when I taught Grade 9 did I remember how tiny little humans we all were at some point. Anyways, I had this eclectic group of music kids and brainy literature kids. It was a strange mix, and this one boy in particular didn’t fit at all.

His name was Jacob and I will never forget him. He made an impression on me, and I don’t even to this day know why. He was the athletic type and was bouncing off the walls. The rest of the kids were like scared chinchillas. I amount this to the fact that his sister was an upperclassman friend of mine, so he knew his way around and such. As we were going on the tour, he kept calling me big brother. I found this strange because I’m an only child and nobody calls me brother, it wasn’t even until I was like 27 that someone “bro’ed” me.

Well this kid was all over the place, and I did my best to calmly keep him in check. But when he saw the floor buffer, he went crazy. He wanted to ride the floor buffer so much. He would just repeat over and over “Can I ride the floor buffer, can I can I?” and I would roll my eyes and say no in the sassy way I always do. He kept asking and was relentless.

Eventually the tour was over and the kiddies went back to their elementary schools. The following year I saw him around and chatted to him a bit (but Grade 12s and Grade 9s are so different you know…) and he would always remind me about him wanting to ride the buffer.

It would always make me laugh and I’m sure to this day he would remember it. In retrospect I think part of what makes him so memorable was his charisma and complete carefree attitude of someone so young. It was shocking and charming as much as it was irritating.

And so why is this experience important? Well I looked him up on Facebook and his public wall was filled with photos of his baby who appears to now be 3 years old. My heart sunk instantly and I was reminded how freakishly old I am in comparison to what I thought previously.

Time flies, it seems, and the more I think about it the more marriage and baby pictures are popping up on Facebook. It makes me somewhat uncomfortable, but then I just laugh, fluff it off and continue on my merry little way.

As good as nostalgia is, sometimes it bites!

Thoughts on children

After some years of completely avoiding the topic of thought it seems to have resurfaced in the form of an epiphany which was triggered by sitting on the bus and seeing an older man (type 40’s) with his two year old son. I saw them out of the corner out of my eye, the young child eating a popsicle (for God only knows what reason in this cold weather). It triggered some thoughts that I had buried since I was about 19 years old and contemplating the future. They resurfaced, and I don’t exactly know how to describe how I feel about them.

When I was an older teenager I said to myself: at age 26 I’ll have been a teacher, I’ll live in an apartment, and I’ll start the process of somehow having a child. I’ll be a single parent, and people will think I’m crazy.

Well after years of suppressing these thoughts they started up again, and I was staring out the window of the bus and suddenly I went into a gaze and imagined myself with a baby boy. How it would be, being a single parent, how it would be raising a child, and how I wanted the atmosphere to be for a child and myself. It wasn’t thoughts of what the product would be, but rather the circumstances around it.

I really got into the thoughts, and then I thought about how it would happen, and why it would be something plausible to think about and to consider. It’s left me really flustered and confused. I will have to write more about it in the future, but why can’t this be something possible? What would this bring to me? Is it something that I should seriously consider.

The sad fact, is that I could see myself as Göran, from the film Patrik 1,5 and thus getting really pathetically desperate to have a child with his partner. I don’t think that I’d want to be ripping up the plants of the neighbours, but I definitely could see myself freaking about it, and how horrible of a situation I’m in, or will be in.